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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28345845">One Last Dance</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breadcrumbs1783/pseuds/Breadcrumbs1783'>Breadcrumbs1783</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>RWBY</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Growing Old, Growing Old Together</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:14:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,024</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28345845</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breadcrumbs1783/pseuds/Breadcrumbs1783</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An old song pops up on Ren and Nora's radio one evening, and the two decided to dance, even though their bones are far too aged for such foolish things.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lie Ren &amp; Nora Valkyrie, Lie Ren/Nora Valkyrie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>One Last Dance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>One Last Dance</p><p>The sweet summer scent of honeysuckles and rosemary danced throughout the air at a small abode in the middle of nowhere. Long curves of barley and wheat flushed the landscape around the house, with the occasional lone tree dotting the field. The sun had started to bid it’s usual farewell for the day and gifted the land with one last present, a perfectly sublime dusk. The sky layered upon itself with hues of orange, red, purple, and indigo. The local population had begun to make their nightly greetings to each other as well. An orchestra of chirps from the crickets over there, a curt hoot from the barn owl over here, and a mellow melody from the cicadas that encompassed all. The temperature had settled to a cool breeze, chilly enough to bring a jacket, but not too overwhelming as to head inside. A perfect night, one might say.</p><p>On the porch of the small abode sat two old souls in rocking chairs. One man and one woman. The rhythmic creek of the tired porch floor as each chair rowed back and forth added another instrument to the symphony of the evening. A dim fluorescent porch light glowed behind the couple’s heads. There was a small wooden table between the two, its surface scratched and dented. On top of it laid a fresh cup of tea and a small radio that was playing one of the recent chart-topping hits. The tune was crude, crass, and cantankerous. Ren had half the mind to reach over and push it off the table. However, he saw Nora’s finger tap along to the beat of the song on her armrest, and thought against it. As for Nora, why, she had half a mind to get up right now and dance a jig. Perhaps she would have if she was ten years younger. Alas, she knew her bones were too old for such foolish things. Her joints creaked when she got out of bed, she trudged down the stairs at the pace of a sloth, and her body ached in places where she didn’t even know they could ache. So, some finger tapping would have to suffice for now.</p><p>When the song ended, a crackled, warped voice came out from the old radio and said, “That was ‘Better for Me,’ by The Lone Stars. Next up, we have an oldie, but a goodie. Here is, “Forever More.”</p><p>A slow, soothing melody strolled out of the speaker. Nora’s ears perked up and a sly grin traveled across her face. It had been a while, and she had forgotten some of the lyrics, but she knew those five first notes from the bottom of her heart. Dum-dum-dummm-dum-dum. Dum-dum-dummm-dum-dum. Nora inched her head back and forth to the rhythm. Maybe her body would scold her in the morning, but she felt like she had one more in her.</p><p>Ren glanced over and saw his wife bobbing her head. He was filled with a sense of exasperation at the sight. He knew what was coming next. He was too tired for this. He just finished tilling the fields. All he wanted to do was sip his hot honey milk tea and let his brittle frame rest. Ren raised his hand and reached for his teacup on the table. However, another hand with pink nail polish clasped it mid-way through. Ren sighed and looked up.</p><p>Nora lifted up Ren’s hand to her lips and gave it a kiss.</p><p>“May I have this dance?” she said in a stern tone, then let out a schoolgirl giggle to break the facade.</p><p>“Nora,” Ren said, “I’m tired. I would like to drink my tea and rest.”</p><p>“That’s totally fine. You can do that.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>“Right after we dance.”</p><p>Ren gave a stern grunt and said, “Nora.”</p><p>“Yes, Ren dear?”</p><p>Nora blinked her eyes a few times, tilted her head, and gave Ren “The Look.” If all else fails, The Look always succeeded.</p><p>Sure enough, Ren shook his head and started to rise from his seat.</p><p>“At least ask me before I sit down,” he said. However, whether he knew it or not, Ren had on a faint smile. He loved it when he couldn’t say no. Even with daily yoga sessions, he found that there were one too many audible cracks in his joints as got up. He took a mental note to take an extra pill tonight before bed.</p><p>Ren led Nora by the hand to the center of the porch. There, he placed his right hand on her hips and her left hand on her shoulder.</p><p>Nora followed suit, wrapping her arms around Ren’s waist and pulling close. Her head rested on Ren’s chest, and she felt his breath rise and fall. Ren, in turn, felt the soft vibrations of Nora humming along to the song.</p><p>Then, the two of them started to move in the tune of the melody. Like most of their lives at this point, it was at a steady pace. Not too fast, but not too slow. Even after fifty years, both of them still knew the steps they used that night. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. Their dance wasn’t one of intense passion, nor of furious desire. Instead, it was like an old record player. Wobbly, a bit cracked in some places and has seen the best of its days long ago. Yet, if one looked closely, they could see history with each step. Each placement of the foot told a story, each sway of the hips said something that no words could ever capture. As they waltzed along to the warbled singer’s croon, the coat of age that weighed down upon them melted, and, for just a moment, they traveled back in time.</p><p>To any other viewers, the scene looked as if an old couple was just dancing on their porch. However, to Ren and Nora, there were no viewers. There was no porch, no house, no farm, and no land. There was nothing. What remained was themselves, the smell of honeysuckle and rosemary, and their song. And that was enough.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for reading. I have an Arkos story coming up real soon, so look out for that!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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